Something Better (Ghost x Reader x Soap)

Hope

The steady beeping of your IV was the only thing keeping you company as you laid there in the hospital bed. You stared numbly at the ceiling, mind empty. Sunlight drifted through your window and gently laid upon your legs. But you couldn't feel its warmth. You couldn't feel anything anymore. Your life fell into shambles the moment those bullets entered your back. A mission gone wrong had left you with a permanent limp and nerve damage in your right leg. Your Major had personally visited you and relieved you of your duties. Years of work and service, gone in an instant. Now, you're stuck with nothing but fucked up lower back and a debilitated leg.

Your teammates had visited you over the course of your recovery, offering their condolences and sympathy, leaving you with vases full of flowers and cards with sweet notes. Not like it really mattered much to you. They could continue on with their lives as normal. They could continue with their careers as normal. Not you. Not anymore.

Your days were plagued with aches and pains, and your nights full of nightmares. You woke up nearly every night with the same dream of those damn bullets piercing through your body. When you weren't wracked with nightmares, you were left laying there unable to sleep. The only thing you had to look forward to was physical therapy as they tried to get your stiff leg back into shape.

Days dragged on into weeks, and you felt more like a shell after each sunrise and sunset. It was torturous. What were you to do now? You had your dream job, you were helping people. And now that's all gone, and you were left here with nothing. You had to start from scratch all over again. Where would you go? What would you do? These questions floated endlessly through your head as the days went by.

You could hear the nurses whisper about you, about how the bags under your eyes grew larger with each passing day. How you rarely spoke. How you would just sit there, vacant, empty, looking at nothing. You would hear the concern and pity in their voices as they spoke about how you would eat just enough to not be force fed. How you would drink just enough to not be pumped full of liquids. How you did the bare minimum to survive.

You hated it. You hated hearing their pitying voices, seeing their sympathetic eyes wash over you. You wanted to scream at them, yell, cry, do anything to make it stop. But you didn't have the will for that anymore. So you just sat there, and tried to ignore it.

Your teammates eventually stopped visiting you. Either because they got too busy, or they were unnerved by your devoid state. Good. You were glad they were gone. You wished to be alone anyways. The loneliness was comforting now. It allowed you to wrap yourself in a thick blanket of misery and sorrow. You couldn't do that with people around. You watched as the flowers by your bedside wilted and were carried away by nurses. You watched as the cards given to you collected dust, and were eventually thrown out. You watched as you imploded in on yourself, becoming a black hole that devoured light itself.

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It was like any other Tuesday. Or was it Wednesday? You couldn't remember, didn't care to remember anymore. You had just returned to your room after physical therapy, reluctantly using your cane given to you by the hospital. You hated using it. It made you feel weak. But until you got stronger again, you couldn't walk more than 10 steps without it.

You sat on your bed as your nurse prattled on about some gossip around the hospital. You didn't particularly care, but you know she thought it helped you to have someone to talk to. So, you let her talk about anything she wanted.

"Oh, by the way, you might want to get changed into something nicer. You have a visitor who's waiting down in the lobby!" She said excitedly. That piqued your interest. A visitor? You haven't had a visitor in weeks. You looked at the nurse curiously, who practically beamed at your change in expression. You let her pick out a nice outfit for you to change into. It was nothing flashy, just a plain button up and a pair of jeans. Though, you insisted on changing yourself, despite the nurse's protests.